


Expecting the Unexpected

by DrawnToDarkness



Category: Primeval
Genre: Drunk!Becker, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Sensible!Jess, The Primeval character/pairing tags have gone weird, prompt!fic, this is a Jess/Becker story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:12:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrawnToDarkness/pseuds/DrawnToDarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phone calls in the early hours aren't entirely unexpected. Unless they involve a certain Captain and too much alcohol...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Expecting the Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> For SveaR, who prompted this months ago.

Her choice of day job meant she was well aware that phone calls in the early hours of the morning were never a good thing but, instead of being summoned into work to deal with some anomaly-related emergency, Jess was a little bit stunned when the voice on the other end of the phone identified himself as being a police officer and asked - very politely – if she'd mind coming down to the station to pick up one very inebriated Captain Hilary J Becker.

Since it was the night of Connor's stag do, she supposed she shouldn't really be surprised. And she assumed that, since Becker's name was the only one mentioned, Abby and Emily had been called to pick up Connor and Matt, and was therefore half-tempted to let them deal with Becker, too, since he wasn't by any means _officially_ her boyfriend.

Yet.

Oh, they were making moves towards whatever was between them becoming official. They'd been out a couple of times, stolen half an hour here and there for lunch in the break room on the quieter days at the ARC – but she hadn't referred to him as her boyfriend yet and was reasonably sure he'd never called her his girlfriend, either.

But they had kissed. _Twice._ And she wasn't ashamed to admit that she was keeping count.

There'd been a sweet, chaste kiss when he'd walked her to her door after their first 'date'; a meal at a pub around the corner from the ARC after work one day when he'd asked her on impulse and Jess had, of course, not hesitated in saying yes.

The second kiss had been a little more heated – and, technically, was probably more like two or three kisses than one – and had been after their second date, which was a lot less spur-of-the-moment and more would-you-like-to-go-out-with-me-on-Friday-night complete with nervous stuttering, sweaty palms and blushing from them both. They hadn't quite managed the 'out' part, instead choosing to have a takeaway so they could cuddle on her couch while pretending to watch a film on TV.

Thinking about that night made her a little bit more amenable to getting up at 2am to pick him up from the drunk tank at the local police station – besides, if nothing else, the experience should provide her with plenty of fodder to make them even when she inevitably gave him something new to tease her about.

Dragging on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, she dragged a brush through her hair before tying it back in a loose bun, slipping on the first pair of boots she could find and grabbing her car keys.

She shivered in the coolness of the evening as she hurried to her car, turning up the heating full blast once she was inside it and had turned the key in the ignition and then she was off.

If only she'd known then what was awaiting her at the police station...

**

She heard him before she saw him.

_Singing._

Becker. Did not. Sing.

But he was.

_Loudly._

She stifled an incredulous laugh as she approached him – sitting on a seat in the waiting area, rather than in the drunk tank where she'd been expecting him to be – and tried to recognise the song he was currently mangling.

It was a love song, she thought. One she recognised and thought she might have on her MP3 player...

A bubble of laughter escaped her when she recognised the lyrics, filing it away for later. Captain Becker, Head of ARC Security, singing a song by a popular boyband in a police station waiting room? Priceless blackmail material.

Now if only she could capture his off-tune singing on her phone...

"Jess?" Having heard her – she was sure he couldn't sense her presence in his very inebriated state – Becker looked up. A grin like none she'd ever seen on his face before arranged his lips and before she could even so much as say hello, she found herself being pulled onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her in a bear hug as he nuzzled her neck. "You came! I missed you!"

"O-kay." Having only seen him at the ARC a few hours before – jokingly warning him not to drink too much, if she recalled rightly – Jess did her best to extract herself from his embrace, her cheeks burning in embarrassment when she noticed the police officer on duty smirking from his place behind the desk. "Becker? Where are the others?"

"The others?" He allowed her to pull back enough so she could look at him and she tried to tell herself that the befuddled expression on his face was not completely adorable (but it was.)

"Connor and Matt? And the others you were out with tonight?" She glanced around the police station waiting room, half expecting to see Connor passed out on a chair and Matt sleeping propped up against a wall but she saw no one else there. "Have Abby and Emily been already?"

Becker frowned, obviously trying to remember. "Connor... Connor fell asleep in the pub!" He said eventually, sounding entirely too triumphant at having remembered the little snippet of information. "And Matt... Matt-y boy said he was gonna take him home!"

"Okay. And then what happened?" She arched an eyebrow when he just stared at her. "Why didn't you go with them?"

"Oh." Becker frowned again but brightened after a minute. "There were some people there. Old friends. Soldier buddies. We went drinking." He leaned towards her, lowering his voice as though he was about to share a secret with her. "Jess?"

"Yes, Becker?"

"I think I'm a little bit drunk."

The earnest way he said it caused laughter to bubble up in her throat but she did her best to disguise it with a cough. "I think you might be," she agreed, trying to disentangle herself once more. She smiled when she succeeded, her smile growing when she noticed him pout when he realised his arms were empty. "Come on, Becker. Time to get you out of here."

He took her outstretched hand, pulling on it heavily as he tried to get to his feet. It took two attempts but he was eventually able to stand, his arm thrown across her shoulders to keep him upright.

He was mercifully quiet for the short walk from the police station to her car but started humming under his breath once she buckled him into the passenger seat and made it round to the other side. By the time she turned the key in the ignition, he was singing again – completely off-tune – tapping his feet not quite in time with the words and bopping his head – actually bopping his head.

"Um, Becker?" A little concerned at how into it he was getting, Jess suddenly had a vision of the alcohol he'd drank coming back to haunt them both. "Maybe you should be a little less enthusiastic, okay?"

He smiled at her – and stopped head bopping – but continued to sing. A few seconds later, the head bopping resumed, too.

Jess sighed and shook her head, turning her attention back to the road after issuing one final warning. "If you puke in my car, I'm making you clean it up tomorrow."

**

She drove them to her flat, deciding it would be safer to keep him with her rather than leave him alone in his very drunk state. Of course she started to regret that decision when she realised it meant she had to get him up four flights of stairs... by herself.

She wrapped her arm around his middle and he in turn wrapped his arm around her shoulders. That was good. Helpful, even. And she did kind of enjoy having him so close to her, feeling the heat of him pressed against her side and the way he let his cheek rest against the top of her head as he inhaled deeply...

... Wait a minute.

"Did you just sniff my hair?" She paused at the top of the first flight of stairs, propping him up against the wall as she steeled herself for the next flight.

Becker gave her a dopey grin in response. "You smell like strawberries."

"It's my shampoo." And under no circumstances was she about to admit to having changed it after a conversation in which Abby had let it slip that a certain Captain was fond of the sweet red berries. "Come on, then. The sooner we get to my flat, the better."

"Am I staying here tonight?" Becker asked, throwing his arm around her shoulders again with enough enthusiasm to almost knock her off balance – and make her grateful that the boots she'd chosen to wear didn't have too high a heel. "Isn't that a little bit fast? I don't wanna rush you, Jess."

Jess snorted, unable to help herself. "Nothing's going to happen tonight, Becker. More's the pity," she added under her breath.

"I like you," he blurted out suddenly, just as they were half-way up the second flight of stairs. Jess reached out for the railing, using it to steady herself under both the weight of his words and the weight of his, well, _weight_. "I really, really, really, really like you, Jess."

"Good to know, Becker. I'd hate to be doing this for someone who didn't." She wasn't sure how she managed to keep her tone dry and sardonic, when inside she was doing a little happy dance and squealing like a teenager. "Okay. One foot in front of the other. We can do this."

"No, no, no." Becker was protesting even as he fell into step – badly – with her. "I mean I _really_ like you. Really _really_ like you. I like the way you smile and the way you look and the way you dress and the way your legs look when you wear those big, big heels and those little, teeny, tiny skirts and how do you walk in those heels? You should fall over more."

"You want me to fall over? Gee, thanks, Becker."

"No, no. But if you did fall over, I'd catch you." His grin was nothing short of dopey, and it made her smile in return. "I'll always catch you, Jess," he told her seriously, his hazel gaze locking with hers.

"That's sweet," Jess smiled at him and privately wondered how much of the conversation he'd remember come morning. Not a lot, she guessed, and wondered if she'd be able to catch any of it on her mobile phone for posterity.

They eventually made it up to her floor. Thinking it would be safe to prop him up against the wall for a few minutes while she unlocked the door to her flat, Jess did just that only to turn back around just in time to see him slid down the wall as if in slow motion. He didn't seem any worse for wear for it grinning dopily up at her from his new position on the floor so she allowed her concern to fade and rolled her eyes instead.

Becker, for his part, frowned after a moment, as if he realised there was not quite right about the height difference between them but his expression cleared when he couldn't figure out what it is and evidently decided it wasn't important.

"Up you get," Jess murmured, bending down to help him get to his feet. "C'mon, Becker, help me out. I promise it's more comfortable inside the flat than out here in the hall." As she spoke, she cast a glance towards her neighbours front door, hoping Mrs Tomlinson wouldn't put in an appearance and glare at her disapprovingly. "Becker!"

With a sigh, he stumbled to his feet – with her help. His arm was once again slung over her shoulders and they swayed unsteadily like two drunks instead of one while Jess tried to regain her balance. She was relieved when they made it inside her flat without further incident, kicking the door shut behind her before helping him navigate the three tricky stairs up to the main floor of the downstairs of her flat.

They made it as far as the sofa, which was something at least. Jess had already decided to forego helping him up the short staircase leading to the bedrooms upstairs, realising the sofa was a safer bet, but she hadn't quite anticipated Becker almost throwing himself onto the padded surface when they were near enough – or that he'd take her down with him, unwilling, it seemed, to relinquish his hold on her.

She landed with an 'oof' on top of him, feeling her cheeks flood with heat at their rather compromising position. Becker didn't seem to mind, though, grinning up at her as his arms slid around her waist, keeping her against him (and on top of him) when she would have wriggled free.

"Becker." She fought down the blush and tried for a stern expression instead. (Something that wasn't easy as her traitorous body all but melted against his, a little voice at the back of her head telling her just to enjoy the moment.) "Let me go."

The battle-hardened, tough-as-nails soldier beneath her pouted. "Don't wanna."

"I need to get up," she told him quietly, though she was rapidly forgetting _why_ she couldn't stay exactly where she was as he gazed up at her with what she could only describe – and would tease him about later - as puppy dog eyes. "You'll be more comfortable with pillows. And blankets. And maybe a glass of water, some pain killers and a bin to throw up in wouldn't go amiss, either."

"Not gonna puke," Becker insisted, his eyelids looking heavy as his arms tightened around her stubbornly. "Just stay a little while, 'kay?"

It was the plaintive way he said it that got to her, and Jess rolled her eyes at herself even as she settled more comfortably against him.

"For a little while," she agreed, promising herself she'd move as soon as he fell asleep.

Her reward was another dopey grin and a happy sigh as Becker finally allowed his eyes to close. She waited until his breathing was deep and steady beneath her, the occasional little snore escaping him, before prising his arms from around her waist and rolling off the sofa.

Jess slid her feet out of her boots so she could move about noiselessly, getting the blankets and pillows she'd mentioned, taking a moment to tuck him before going to fetch the glass of water, two painkillers and empty waste paper bin to put beside him.

Unable to resist, she snapped a quick picture of him on her mobile for posterity (and future blackmail purposes) before setting into the chair opposite with another blanket tugged around her shoulders.

**  
End.


End file.
